USA > Massachusetts > Barnstable County > Truro > Truro-Cape Cod; or, Land marks and sea marks > Part 33
Note: The text from this book was generated using artificial intelligence so there may be some errors. The full pages can be found on Archive.org (link on the Part 1 page).
Part 1 | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4 | Part 5 | Part 6 | Part 7 | Part 8 | Part 9 | Part 10 | Part 11 | Part 12 | Part 13 | Part 14 | Part 15 | Part 16 | Part 17 | Part 18 | Part 19 | Part 20 | Part 21 | Part 22 | Part 23 | Part 24 | Part 25 | Part 26 | Part 27 | Part 28 | Part 29 | Part 30 | Part 31 | Part 32 | Part 33 | Part 34 | Part 35 | Part 36 | Part 37 | Part 38 | Part 39 | Part 40 | Part 41 | Part 42 | Part 43 | Part 44 | Part 45 | Part 46
MATTHIAS RICH.
1
-
CHAPTER XXIII.
FISHERMEN.
Yachting. A new Life. A Race. Nobody Beat. Changes. Tom Hood. The Coast Guard's Song. Long Ned. Judy Callaghan. Codfishing. Hygiene and the Banks. Shut Up. Saturday Night. The Song of Welcome. Uncle Sam. Ship Mediator. Pleasant Memories. Henry Pearce. Sinking of the Fames Beard. Mackerel. How they were caught. High Line. Kings. Commodore. Daniel Clark. Tide Har- bor. A Breakwater. River and Harbor Improvements. Union Wharf. Beginning of Business. Elisha Newcomb. Beach Speculations. Sea Vandals. Improvements. John N. Devereaux. Captain Hinckley. Marine Insurance Company. Surplus Revenue. Benevolent Society. Picturesque Speech. A dull Sailor. Mr. Ambrose Snow. Mr. William White. Two Pine-trees.
By this craft we have our wealth.
Y ACHTING, including the whole family of aquatic sports, has drawn much attention the last few years, both sides of the Atlantic. Millions have been staked upon accomplish- ing the greatest distance in the shortest time, by sail or oar. Many people think with T. W. Higginson, "Sailing is of course delicious ; it is as good as flying to steer anything with wings of canvas." Ambition to drive four-in-hand vanishes when the ribbons are exchanged for the helm. When the hand holds the tiller ; when the white foam dashes from the sharp bow lines ; when whirling eddies play in the straight wake ; when a path never trod by human feet opens at his bidding, and a new, strange life opens at his touch, the amateur skip- per has conquered a new world.
The model fisherman keeps his craft snug and taut. He has tested her temper and strength through storm and calm. He will defend her sea-going and fast-sailing almost with his
417
418
TRURO- CAPE COD.
life. A larger fleet and finer manœuvring have never been seen than in a fleet of fishermen. Sometimes three or four hundred sail, from forty to perhaps one hundred and forty tons, all sea-going, well-equipped and well-manned, haul aft their sheets in a freshening breeze to reach a windward harbor.
Now for a race ! Now she is trimmed to a hair. Now the mainsail is swayed till the boom lifts from the saddle, and the foresail till the luff bears the goose-neck. Now the sheets are hauled to an inch, and the sails are flat as a board and tight as a drum-head. Now the best man takes the wheel and the steed knows her rider. Some men can get a knot or more, just as a favorite mounter at the Derby can get more speed. Now like race-horses the leading craft seem to stretch their long, lithe bodies, swing their white manes and show their silver heels. The heavy craft soon fall to the leeward, the moderate ones drop astern. With the fast sailors, the inter- est intensifies till the harbor is reached, the freshening gale spoils the sport, or night drops the curtain. When they meet to compare notes, none will admit that they have been beaten, and as there were no stakes or referees, all agree to try it over again the very next chance.
It must be borne in mind that I am describing the life of a generation gone by, and not subject to criticism, owing to the many radical changes in the improved equipments and cus- toms of fishermen of late years. Deep sea-seining, then un- known as applied to catching mackerel, is now almost univer- sal. The changes in catching and curing codfish are no less radical.
But I fancy the life on shipboard is not much changed. I am surprised to find that the songs and stories to which I used to listen as new, when a boy, had, many of them, a beautiful antiquity. An old song that I supposed local, but on account of its vivid description and rythmic chorus, clung to memory, is quoted complete in Tom Hood's Works. It is related in his life by his daughter, that during one of her father's visits at Brighton, his favorite resort, he became acquainted with an old lieutenant of the Coast Guards, from whom he learned this odd song, in which he delighted, and was the only one he
419
FISHERMEN.
was ever known to sing. It consisted of about twenty verses, from which I am tempted to make a quotation : -
Up jumped the mackerel, With his striped back - Says he, reef in the mains'l, and haul on the tack, For it's windy weather, It's stormy weather, And when the wind blows pipe all hands together - For, upon my word, it's windy weather.
Up jumped the cod, With his chuckle head - And jumped into the main chains to heave at the lead,- For it's windy weather, etc., etc.
Up jumped the flounder, That swims to the ground - Crying, damme, old chuckle head, mind how you sound - For it's windy weather, etc.
An old Irish song has a no less interesting history. It was a custom among the fishermen to make up a full complement of crew, by hiring men in Boston. Sometimes Portuguese from the Azores ; Frenchmen from Bordeaux ; Irishmen from County of Cork and Kinsale; such an one was Ned Owens, who had fished many a long night in the red-sail-boats from Kinsale. For short, we called him Long Ned. Ned was a great fisherman ; the man that could beat him had to do some lively work. When fishing was moderate, Ned would saw away at his lines with some old Irish chorus as an accom- paniment, happy as a lark. But when the fish bit sharply, Long Ned, with his long arms, would wind up the fifty fathom codlines like a steam reel, and keep a fish coming over the rail most all the time. A favorite song with Ned, and one of which he never tired, was Judy Gallaghan. I supposed it some old Irish ditty, that had perhaps been improvised by the fishermen ; albeit, something about it always lingered in memory. Judge of my surprise to find it among the odes of Horace as "The Sabine Farmer's Serenade," and translated from the Latin by no less a scholar and critic than the classical
420
TRURO- CAPE COD.
Father Prout of Watergrass Hill. The first verse of the eight is all we can here afford : -
'Twas on a windy night, At two o'clock in the morning,
An Irish lad so tight,
All wind and weather scorning,
At Judy Callaghan's door, Sitting upon the palings, His love-tale he did pour, And this was part of his wailings : - Only say You'll be Mrs. Brallaghan ; Don't say nay, Charming Judy Callaghan.
It was not until the decline of whaling that the Bank, Bay of St. Lawrence, and Labrador, or Straits of Belle Isle fish- eries pushed regularly. It was then the custom for the crew to cure their fish in the fall, and carry them to France, Spain, Portugal, and up the Mediterranean, for a market. To fit away, catch, cure and find a foreign market, required nearly a year. We have before referred to this as being a preparatory school from which graduated many of the most successful captains in the merchant service.
Codfishing on the Banks was considered tough work. The boy who could graduate from that school with full honors, could take care of himself; fight his own battles. It was kill or cure ; few, however, were killed ; he was sure to come home hale and hearty. As an infallible remedy for almost all complaints to which flesh is heir, a Bank voyage, as conducted thirty or forty years ago, challenges comparison. The rad- ical change of life, the pure, bracing air, the regular labor, the sound sleep, the forced temperance and ravenous appe- tite are the medicine that will cure when all the mysteries of the Materia medica utterly fail. A trip on the Grand Bank, and " throw physic to the dogs !" I have known scores of men of various diseases, in various stages, who have made the trip, but rarely, if ever, heard of an instance that failed. It is understood that I am not speaking of helpless invalids, but more particularly of dyspeptics, liver, humorous or cutaneous
421
FISHERMEN.
diseases, and pulmonary complaints, in their early stages. I made the acquaintance of a gentleman of large fortune, on a Cunard packet, who said he had not made a square meal for thirty years. I believe a four months' trip to the Grand Bank, as a common hand, would enable this poor man to eat three square meals a day and look over his shoulder for a fourth. Charles Lamb says, " The foolisher the fowl or fish - woodcocks, dotterals, cod's heads, etc. - the finer the flesh thereof." Perhaps Lamb had eaten a codhead muddle at Old Margate Hoy. Who has not eaten a codhead muddle on the Banks, has something yet to do in the way of nne eating.
Going to the Grand Bank meant leaving home in April for . three to five months' trip, with no communication till the return. It meant besides usual sea casualities, to be shut up n the fog, exposed to icebergs and Merimachimen (English .imber ships), and cut off from the world as if alone on the planet. Doctor Johnson said "Going to sea was going to prison, with a chance of being drowned besides." A trip to the Grand Bank would have confirmed the old critic's remark. Do not imagine, however, that these men felt they were prisoners, or even dreamed of being unhappy. It was their business, and they were more happy and content than the average working man I have met on the land. Day by day, and week by week, a more cheerful company, kind, pleasant and accommodating, it would be hard to find. Saturday night was a happy hour. At sunset the lines were snugly coiled, the decks washed, and a single watch set for twenty-four hours. Sunday was a day of rest. The bright, unfaltering star that never set or dimmed, that robbed the voyage of half its discomforts and terrors, was going home. How pleasant the anticipation, how glad the welcome, how lavish the store !
And are ye sure the news is true ? And are ye sure he's weil ? Is this a time to think o' work ? Make haste, lay by your wheel - Is this the time to spin a thread, When Colin's at the door ? Reach down my cloak, I'll to the quay, And see him come ashore.
422
TRURO - CAPE COD.
And give to me my bigonet, My bishop's satin gown, For I maun tell the ballie's wife That Colin's in the town. My Turkey slippers maun go on, My stockings pearly blue,
It's a' to please my own gudeman, For he's both leal and true.
Rise, lass, and make a clean fireside, Put on the muckle pot ; Gie little Kate her button gown And Jock his Sunday coat. - William Julius Mickle.
I have said the fishermen are shut up for months in the fog on the Banks. In the days to which I refer, all Yankees fished with hand-lines from the vessel. The crew usually consisted of eight hands and the cook : four to each watch; one watch was always at the lines night and day if on fish. To be the first on deck after the watch was called, particularly if count- ing fish, required hasty toilets. A young, smart fellow, was no little chagrined to find uncle Sam, the oldest man on board, always ahead. One night the young man was bound to beat. He turned in with his boots on, jacket and hat under his head; at the first call he rushed out of his berth and on deck to find uncle Sam at his lines. The old man had been sleeping like the hare, with one eye open, and while his rival went up the gangway, he had jumped through the skylight and grabbed his lines.
Sometimes the monotony was relieved by visitors from other ships crossing the Banks. I well remember an incident of this kind in July, 1841. It was a pleasant day, moderate and smooth except the old swell that never goes down on the Banks. We lay at anchor near the southern edge, with fair fishing. When the fog cleared up about nine o'clock, a large ship crowded with emigrants, lay becalmed less than two miles off. They soon lowered a quarter boat ; the captain and several passengers came on board. She was the New York packet ship Mediator, from Liverpool, with a full complement of cabin and over five hundred steerage passengers.
Our visitors were wild with excitement to see the live fish
423
FISHERMEN.
come in. They danced and capered around with delight. While they were on board the writer caught a sixty-pound halibut as handsome as ever taken from the ocean. An enthusiastic Englishman could scarcely contain himself in his admiration of this fish. Time and time again as the big halibut flounced and writhed in the kid, he put his white jeweled hands on the snow-white slippery skin, exclaiming, "What a magnificent fish !" We nearly loaded their boat with live codfish and the big halibut : they left us a few sovereigns, the London and Liverpool papers, hearty good wishes, promised to report us as soon as possible, which they did, and joined their ship. A breeze soon filled her friendly looking sails, bearing her homeward, while the fog folded us as we rolled away at our anchor, closer still in its dark pavilion. I have many pleasant memories of that Bank trip of twenty-two weeks out of sight of land, without one of our crew in the meantime stepping out- side of our ark. Our skipper was not a professor of religion, but every Sunday night, or afternoon, after our supper of fried turnovers, he used to read the Bible, a few hymns were sung, and Henry Pearce, a noble Christian young man, used to offer prayer. Mr. Pearce was for several years afterwards a very successful skipper of the schooner John A. Cook. For more than twenty years he has been an Iowa farmer. I would walk a weary journey to once more grasp his brawny palm. Since writing the above Mr. Pearce has gone to his long home. Heman Harvender, of Provincetown, and the writer only remain of that crew of '41.
The following incident that occurred in our family nearly seventy years ago, of which we used to hear in our youth, we will tell in the old ballad fashion : -
The rye-fields wave in summer's sun, With heavy ears hung low ; Next week the stalwart reapers come, Their sickles all aglow. The James Beard swings short cable scope, Abreast of old Cornhill, ' Twixt Pamet and Great Hollow's slope, Waiting the skipper's will.
424
TRURO-CAPE COD.
To ennes4.
ANTHONYGEMMA SA
SHE CHIDES HER THROBBING HEART.
" The wind is blowing fair," quoth he, " We'll soon reach Sable Capes, To-morrow at the Landing be. Mind, bring your lucky cakes." The fisherman leaves his native strand, His wife braves well her part ; He watches far the fading land, She chides her throbbing heart.
" Steer east by north - don't let her veer ; Must hug Seal Island Rock, To hold the wind this time of year," Such was the master's talk. The summer breeze blew fair and strong, Fast flew the fishing bark ; While leads, and hooks, and pendants long, Were rigged with skilful art.
Now fades the deep-green sea to blue, Now sea-fowl wheel to hand,
425
FISHERMEN.
The fishers know the azure hue, The Banks of Newfoundland. Thirty fathoms on the southern flow, -- Here are the fish, by Moses ! Stand by the anchor - let her go! We are on their noses."
Watch and watch, by night and day, Thus weeks pass swiftly by. Now northern gales sweep down the bank And swift the white-wings fly. To willing hands and steady train, The sea gives up her store, September days are on the wane - The salt is growing lower.
The fisherman dreams of wife and home, He walks his sandy dunes, He sees the ancient meeting-house, He sings King David's tunes. " All hands ahoy ! she's sprung aleak !" The watchful skipper cried. " To the pumps, men, and pump for life ! We're on the ocean wide."
Nor sturdy arm could intervene To save the gallant craft. For like the Royal George careened She settled fore and aft. Good neighbors were the fishing crews, They took the shipwrecked men, Like old Anchises, bore them back To native land again.
Two of the crew, neighbors well-tried, Were landed at the Cape. They journeyed home in thoughtful mood Discussing creeds and fate. They talked of wives and children small To meet with empty hand, Their fare of fish in Stygian thrall, Three hundred leagues from land.
They talked of luck and Providence, Of God's mysterious way - Of Indian corn that rip'ning hung That bright October day.
426
TRURO-CAPE COD.
My father said, " I hope my field Like that hangs thick with corn ; Our brindle cow will furnish milk, We'll weather through the storm."
Thus conversing, past Tashmuit, Where now tourists rally, Through the oak-glades clad in russet - Lol our pleasant valley. They saw the smoke from chimney tops, And ripe corn-fields outlying, The red-roofed barn with open door, And brindle cow a-dying.
My father's arms were strong and broad, And strong was his endeavor, My mother's trust a triple cord, Her faith knew no surrender. With tearful eyes he raised the latch, So bravely mother met him : "The Lord is good to bring you home, We'll never fail to trust him."
The mackerel fishery is a modern branch, and did not com- mand very much attention till after the War of 1812. Mack- erel had been caught around the shores of New England, par- ticularly Massachusetts Bay, since the days of old Isaac Allerton, of the Pilgrims. They were well known, and a great favorite with the Indians, on account of their rich fat- ness. " Mackerel catching " did not, like Minerva, leap into perfection, but was attained by patient continuance. First, by drailing with long booms, much the same as bluefish are now hooked. Next, with lines from the boat or vessel under moderate headway. Then, "laying to," or a square dead drift, throwing bait freely, coying the fish, was found the most suc- cessful. By this way, with a moderate breeze, a school could sometimes be kept around the vessel for hours. As many as one hundred and fifty wash barrels have been caught by hook and line at a single drift. Lines, port or starboard, as seemed most convenient, was the custom when first "laying to" began, but before many years the starboard side only was used. A fleet of hundreds of sail, laying to and beating up
427
FISHERMEN.
to the windward to keep on the school is a fine marine pict- ure. Under these growing improvements the catch rapidly increased from 47,000 barrels in 1818, to 384,000, of 1831, an amount not since reached. Undoubtedly some of these pio- neer skippers who nursed this great industry into life, as they witnessed the surprising facilities and magnitude of the busi- ness, which they bequeathed to their sons, felt akin to the great cotton lords who bequeathed millions of spindles and dollars to establish a family name. As Lord Bacon is made to say, "Note the difference of habitudes." "High-Line " is the highest degree conferred in this school. It outranks all others. Stewart and Vanderbilt were only high-line. When a millionaire, an old man and childless, was good-naturedly reproved for sticking so close to his business, and making sharp bargains, he replied, with the old fire in his eyes, "I want them fellows to know I ain't going to be beat." The fishermen of Truro were among the first to follow the mack- erel business, and to the present, about two generations, there have always been some " high-lines," or leaders of the fleet from this town. Other places have had great fishermen who enjoyed for a few years a high reputation - real champions, but Truro has had a remarkable succession of leading or lucky skippers. I know of no time during hooking days, when some of her skippers were not acknowledged kings. A thousand white sails are on the ocean, all in hot pursuit of mackerel. Perhaps five hundred sail are in sight; they are bound to no port; there is no commodore, and not a word of agreement or command given, indicated or accepted ; all are free as the wind; yet by some unknown law or force, this im- mense fleet accept a leader, and move and manœuvre as if the broad pennon was floating at his mast head. Ostensibly this leadership is not admitted or intimated, as there is no defer- ence whatever, but the fact as a rule is plain as sunlight.
In the palmy days of hooking, the lines were sharp-drawn ; not only between the lucky and unlucky skippers, but on board the vessels, every man and boy was measured presumably by his ability to catch mackerel. All other accomplishments and distinctions miserably perished. An average share was the
428
TRURO - CAPE COD.
standard, but in every well-drilled crew, there was most always some smart fishermen high-line, who would catch nearly two shares, and a low line, who could scarcely catch half a share. Nor did it end here ; these respective merits were well known at home and sometimes entered the social relations. Many a youth who would not be counted a second-class fisherman, be- came a first-class shipmaster or merchant, while possibly the high-line hung to his hooks.
Then up and spake an old sailor, Had sailed to the Spanish main :- I pray thee put into yonder port, For I fear a hurricane.
About the year 1825, Daniel Clark, a young man belonging to Truro, having finished his fishing, made a trip to Liverpool before the mast, in the ship New England. On the homeward passage to Boston, when between the Capes, a northeast snow- storm set in. The ship was put under close reefs on the port tack. Clark kept both eyes open ; soon as an opportunity of- fered, he told the captain that if he kept his ship on that tack she would be on the rocks before twelve o'clock. The captain at first tried to stand on his dignity, but soon found Clark knew what he was talking about, and was glad to follow his advice, and thereby, as he afterwards acknowledged, saved his ship. Clark was one of those fellows who, going to school three months in a year and never known to study, knew more than the schoolmaster. He experienced religion when a young man, and could talk more eloquently and persuasively than the minister, and sing like an angel, if angels sing. Physically, he was a fine specimen of the genus homo. Tall, well-shaped and athletic, graceful and handsome. It is said he was strong as a lion, and limber as a cat ; that he could out-climb, out-jump, out-lift, out-fish, out-wrestle, out-sing, out-talk and generally out-do all competitors. He was proud, impulsive, imperious ; generous and improvident. He early married a lovely young woman, and soon after engaged in the merchant service. After an absence of two years, he visited for a few weeks his family for the last time. He never again visited Truro, or his wife
429
FISHERMEN.
and children, nor contributed to their support. Would you know further of this man with the talents of Altamont ? The following inscription tells one side of his history : -
In Memory Of HOPE, Wife of DANIEL CLARK, Died July 26, 1834, Aged 25 Years.
When the Pilgrims discussed the question of settlement on board the Mayflower after two visits to Truro, a majority de- cided that the principle objection was a tide-harbor. A tide- harbor has been an objection and an unspeakable drawback from that day. It was this fact that delayed business from being done at home so many years. Great efforts were made from time to time to improve the harbor, and had proper influences been reached the desired work might have been done by Gov- ernment, as in scores of other instances of less importance.
In 1794 Dr. Freeman says, " The situation of Pamet Har- bor is such as justly claims attention, and if repaired, would be of public utility. A wharf (or pier) sixty yards in length, fourteen feet wide on the ground, and sharp on the top, and ten feet in height, would make a safe and good harbor ; and by estimation would cost, built of timber and filled up with stones, but eighteen hundred and fifty dollars. Though the top of the wharf would be covered at highwater, yet it would break the sea in twelve or thirteen feet of water." The idea discussed in Dr. Freeman's time, though on a modest scale, was undoubtedly the true plan. In 1839 the Truro Break- water Company was incorporated. The purpose of this com- pany was to build a stone breakwater in sufficient depth of water to afford a harbor at all times. Wharves were to have been built inside for packing and outfitting. A petition was presented to Congress asking for a moderate appropriation to this much needed improvement. Failing to secure an appro- priation, the company found a lamentable grave. If a larger amount had been asked, and the application had been pushed by liberal and persistent effort, there is reason to believe it might have been secured. It would have been of incalculable
430
TRURO - CAPE COD.
advantage to the town besides a permanent roadstead for ves- sels falling to the leeward when entering Cape Cod Bay.
Previous to 1830, the custom had been for the Truro skip- pers to sail mostly in vessels belonging to other ports, doing all their business away from home ; building up other places. Discriminating men saw the opportunity to benefit themselves and their neighbors. Their enterprise was well timed and most commendable. The initiatory movement was building the Union Wharf on the south side of the river, in 1830. This was done by filling tight bulkheads with gravel from a hill hard by. The wharf was several hundred feet on the river, and an immense tonnage of sand had to be moved. Perhaps no enterprise that required so much hard stubborn work, was ever accomplished with so much esprit de corps. The stock was divided into fifty or more shares ; no individual, I think, could have over one share, and each stockholder could wheel his proportion of sand. A committee was appointed to super- intend the work, and to see that there was no shirking. Among the company were young men of mercurial temperament who meant fun at most any price ; to do so at the expense of dig- nity or good order was no sacrifice. They were willing to work harder than wheeling sand, to have the reputation of shirking, for the sake of defending themselves, or fastening the charge by presumptive evidence upon some good, honest, hard-working man who felt that neglecting his duty was nearly a crime. They lampooned the committee or some over officious individuals, in excrutiating doggerel that followed them to their graves. They furnished excitement and amusement during the winter, pleased themselves, shortened many long faces and many hours of toil. The work went bravely on, was well done, and for years paid a handsome dividend.
Need help finding more records? Try our genealogical records directory which has more than 1 million sources to help you more easily locate the available records.